


Call the deep

by tigerlo



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, But only kind of au, F/F, This is basically a big old angst-fest with a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 16:04:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8496487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigerlo/pseuds/tigerlo
Summary: “You know the Greeks believed humans were made in pairs, right?” Jillian asks out of the blue one day. 
“Yeah, I do,” Erin says pausing, hanging off the silence between them. 
or
A kind of soul-mate au, wherein Erin and Holtz are both beautifully in love with each other, but both fail to see it until it's almost too late.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I never actually planned to write any Ghostbusters fic, but here we are with story number two, whoops.
> 
> I don't know why, but these two lend themselves to being written in such a heart-wrenching way that is an absolute delight to play with. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did writing it.

-

 

Erin doesn't think in hours or minutes or days. She thinks in numbers.

 

The Gregorian calendar has never been a sufficient measurement of time in her head to describe the phenomena and theories she surrounds herself with.

 

Years are an insufficient length of time to describe how long the earth has been a solid mass. Hours are not sufficient to describe the length of time she spends on her work during her waking hours.

 

And months are a completely inadequate method to describe how long she feels she has known Jillian Holtzmann.

 

It doesn't sufficiently describe the length of time the atoms of matter that make up Erin’s mind, body and consciousness, have been in love with her either.

  


-

  


It had taken Erin a while to come to terms with the behaviour and thought patterns of her mind, to understand what she was experiencing was not madness, only infatuation of the highest, grandest degree.

 

She had panicked at first. Instead of confronting the truth, Erin had put every ounce of time and energy into trying to convince herself, and others, that she _was_ interested in what society had deemed a more acceptable choice in Kevin, before she had realised it had been utterly pointless from the beginning.

 

This bond that Erin could swear is almost a tangible tie between her and Jillian feels too deep for one human lifetime. She feels as though it has echoed through eons, and resonated for longer than simple consciousness.  

 

In the beginning she had wondered if she was simply insane. That perhaps the long stretching effects of physiological trauma as a child were finally manifesting, but even in very early stages of their professional relationship Erin could have sworn Holtzmann had felt it too.

 

The over the top flirtation had been just that, simple hollow sexual attraction, and Erin had discounted it immediately until she started catching Holtzmann staring at her from across the lab, her fingers paused on her soldering iron or screwdriver or pliers, looking not only _at_ Erin, but **through** her as well.

 

The looks had come and gone, consumed by the immediacy of their little ‘end of the world’ problem, but Erin had felt the pull of the tie between them grow tighter and tighter, regardless.

 

Thankfully, life slows after they save the city and they begin to breath normally again. They move into the firehouse and Abby immediately designates upstairs as Erin’s workspace after Holtz claims it for herself.

 

“Besides the obvious need for parental supervision?” Abby quipped sarcastically when Erin had asked her why.

 

Erin had waited impatiently for her to finish her sentence, watching as Abby’s gaze turned slow and quiet, and Erin felt that elemental chain tighten again around her throat and at her wrists.

 

Her reply, when it comes long seconds later, is simple and without the slightest hint of malice.

 

“Come on Er, you know why.”

  


-

  


Most of the time they work in silence, beyond the gentle hum of Holtzmann’s machines, and the less gentle thrumming of their radio.

 

The silence doesn't feel empty though, it feels comfortable and padded and like _home_.

 

Jillian asks her questions often. Mostly with purpose, her workings and sketches requiring Erin's mathematical backing. Sometimes unnecessarily, when Erin knows she already has the answer but wants Erin to tell her anyway.

 

Erin's not totally convinced why she does this. Part of her fears it's Jillian's way of taking pity on someone who was ignored for so many years, but the small bright part of her hopes it's just an excuse to stand close to her for a few minutes.

  


-

  


“You know the Greeks believed humans were made in pairs, right?” Jillian asks out of the blue one day.

 

She's been quieter than usual today, her musical choices more muted than normal.

 

“Yeah, I do,” Erin says pausing, hanging off the silence between them.

 

She watches as Holtz visibly struggles with her next words. After a few seconds her face falls, defeated, and Erin has the impression that whatever comes out of her mouth next is not what she had initially intended to say.

 

“Cool huh?” is all that comes in reply.

 

Erin could drop it, Holtz is clearly not comfortable saying whatever it was she really wanted to say, but she just can't. Not when what she wants to say with all her heart is ‘yes, and I think you're the other part of me.’

 

Erin doesn't say that though, doesn't think either of them are ready to answer that question just yet, so settles for something a bit more benign instead.

 

“Do you believe stuff like that Holtz?”

 

“The whole fatalism deal-io?”

 

“No,” Erin says simply, pushing the question back.

 

“I didn't used to,” Jillian says with equal simplicity.

 

“And now?” Erin asks, looking directly at Holtz who is steadfastly refusing to look up from the wire in her hands.

 

“Yes.”

 

A beat.

 

“But I don't think it's that simple.”

 

“What do you mean?” Erin asks curiously.

 

“I don't think they recognise each other every time. The two parts I mean. Sometimes only one knows, and sometimes the other realises but sometimes they don't. And the one who knows but can’t say, dies of a broken heart.”

 

“That sounds like a tragedy,” Erin says sadly.

 

“It is.”

 

It's not until later that the meaning of Holtzmann’s reply hits Erin fully.

 

Not ‘it _would_ be’ but ‘it **is** ’.

 

Current tense.

  


-

  


She spends the rest of the day and night trying to quantify the probability that Jillian could possibly have meant her.

  


-

  


The most ironic part of this whole ridiculous conundrum is that they're both scientists. Potentially two of the brightest minds in the state and they:

 

 

  * _Both appeared to believe in the absurd idea of soulmates_



 

 

_and_

 

 

  * _Couldn't see how hopelessly in love with each other they were_



 

  


-

  


One day Holtz stops flirting with her and the moment Erin realises, she stops breathing.

 

Like _physically_ stops breathing and starts to have a panic attack.

 

It's so illogical because it's just _flirting_ but the deeper part of her mind understands the significance behind this.

 

Hence the panic attack.

 

She's had them before, like really _really_ bad ones. But none this bad.

 

Thank god someone's actually around because she's about twenty seconds from passing out, and she doesn't actually know if her body is capable of involuntary respiratory processes at present.

 

Of course it's Holtzmann that comes to her rescue, being both the closest one to her and the only other person in the firehouse.

 

Erin doesn't actually know if this makes things better or worse.

 

She's sitting at her desk one minute, struggling to draw in a normal breath, and on the floor underneath it, hyperventilating, the next.

 

To her credit, Jillian doesn't waste any time. She's off her own chair the second she sees Erin fall, dropping to her knees as soon as she reaches her.

 

Her voice is calm, very very calm, like she's seen someone have a panic attack before.

 

“Erin,” Holtz says softly, not touching her. “Do you know what's happening to you?”

 

_Gasp._ “Panic.” _Gasp._ “Attack.”

 

“Good, that's really good. Can I touch you?”

 

She can't talk, doesn't want to waste the oxygen, so nods instead.

 

Jillian's hands close softly around Erin's, pulling it up to rest on her chest, over her heart.

 

Holtz keeps her hand there for a moment, her palms soft but calloused on top of Erin's.

 

“Can you feel my heartbeat?”

 

Erin shakes her head, there are too many layers of clothing and the pattern is too faint to focus on.

 

Holtz removes her hands, shrugging off her jacket, leaving her in suspenders and a cropped tee. She grabs Erin's hand again and slips it under the thin fabric to rest warmly on bare skin.

 

It's probably just the current situation and her wildly out of control bodily responses, there are too many variables to say for sure, but the minute Erin's hand makes contact with Jillian's chest, Erin swears she feels an electric shock travel from that point outwards, moving through her blood and bone.

 

If Holtzmann's shocked expression is anything to go by, she feels something similar too.

 

“Is that better?” Holtz chokes out. “Can you feel it now?”

 

“Mhmmmm.”

 

“Good, you're doing really good Erin. I want you to try and concentrate on that alright? Don't worry about your breathing just now, just try and count the beats in your head.”

 

She nods and centres all her energy on the pulsing she can feel under her hand, her breath still ragged. She mouths the count silently and she sees Holtz watching her.

 

“Perfect, now I want you to try and focus on my breathing too, ok?”

 

Erin nods, still counting under her breath. Jillian's breathing is erratic and quick at first, mirroring her own. Slowly though she notices it become calmer, and tries to concentrate on that.

 

“You're doing amazing babe, do you think you can try and match my breathing now?”

 

Erin pauses, still counting heartbeats and notices that her breath isn't so drawn as it was a moment ago. It's slower, closer to Holtzmann's now.

 

She closes her eyes and feels Jillian's chest expand beneath her hand, underneath the beating. She tries to match the breath, the weight that had been excruciating on her chest a moment ago, starting to lighten.

 

“That's it,” Holtz says slowly. “That's perfect, you're doing perfect Erin.”

 

She's not sure how long it takes for her breathing to totally even out, but the sky changes colour outside and they're still sitting under her desk.

 

Erin hears footsteps up the stairs and her hand tightens under Jillian's, not ready to see the others yet.

 

She has her back to the door but watches as Holtz catches the eye of who ever it is in the doorway, Abby judging by the footfalls, and nods slowly, mouthing ‘we're ok’.

 

Erin closes her eyes, relaxes into Jillian's touch again and thinks that her words couldn't be further from the truth.

  


-

  


Things only get worse from there.

 

The flirting isn't the only thing that stops. Holtz stops dancing, her music gets quieter and quieter until she doesn't bother with it anymore. She stops meeting Erin's eyes and seems to actively avoid her, working through the night and sleeping in the morning.

 

It's Abby she falls apart to in the end.

 

She drags Erin out for a drink after a particularly dirty bust, all four of them covered in scrapes and bruises by the end, but Erin worst of all.

 

“Are you sure you don't need the hospital?” Abby asks, pushing back Erin’s fringe to check one of the larger cuts, held closed by a butterfly stitch.

 

“I don't think they'll be able to do anything better than we've already done,” Erin says, wincing as she moves her arm to grab her drink.

 

They sip their wine in silence for a few minutes before Abby puts her glass on the table and looks squarely at Erin.

 

“Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or am I going to need to booze it out of you?”

 

“Is it that obvious?”

 

“Do I really need to answer that?”

 

“I just don't know what I've done, she won't even look at me anymore.”

 

“Come on Erin, I know you can be a bit oblivious but surely you're not that stupid?” Abby says pointedly.

 

“What do you mean? Do you know what’s wrong?”

 

“Jesus Christ,” Abby says impatiently. “Just talk to her.”

 

Erin pauses before answering, her voice timid and quiet.

 

“What if I don't want to hear her answer?”

 

“Isn't it worth the risk if you do?”

  


-

  


It turns out the whole avoidance thing makes it extremely difficult to actually catch Holtzmann to talk to her, and it's a week before Erin finally corners her.

 

She purposefully waits downstairs until after everyone has left, knowing Jillian would only come out once she thought she was alone.

 

It's late, or rather very early, when she finally comes down from their lab to search of food.

 

“I left you some of my Chinese,” Erin says sleepily from the couch, partly obscured by the high plush pillows.

 

“Jesus Erin, you scared me,” Holtz says clutching her chest. “I didn't know anyone else was here.”

 

“Sorry. Didn't mean to give you a fright,” Erin says walking slowly towards the kitchen. “I wanted to wait for you, I hardly see you anymore.”

 

“Been busy,” Holtz says, head stuck in the fridge, trying to feign interest in a carton of milk.

 

“Holtz, is everything ok? Have I done something to upset you?”

 

Jillian finally stops then, closing the fridge door, knocking her forehead against it.

 

She mutters something under her breath that Erin can't hear, but sounds vaguely like ‘ _stupid, stupid, stupid’_.

 

“Hey, look I'm sorry I don't want to make it worse. It's just, I miss you, that's all.”

 

Holtz doesn't say anything, although she temporarily abandons banging her head against the stainless steel.

 

“You'd tell me if there was something I could do, right?”

 

Finally Jillian turns around to look at her. She looks terrible. Her face is drawn, the deep black rings under her eyes look like as heavy a weight as whatever she has on her shoulders.

 

When she finally speaks there's an anger and spite in her voice that Erin's never heard before.

 

“Nothing nobody can do, it's just my own stupid problem to deal with.”

 

“Maybe if you told me what it was, we could do it together though?” Erin says quietly, how one would speak to a spooked dog.

 

She reaches out, wanting to find some comfort in the warmth of Jillian's skin, as well as trying to calm the blonde down, but instead she _flinches_ , physically recoils from Erin's touch before she can make contact.

 

“I can't do this,” Holtz says unevenly, and then she's gone.

 

Erin hears something float down the stairs that sounds suspicious like ‘ _never love you back, so fucking stupid_ ’ before something big and metallic hits something concrete.

 

Just like that, Erin's left standing in the kitchen, her hand still stretched out foolishly before her.

 

She takes one huge shuddering breath and her body gives way beneath her. She crumples to the ground on the cold kitchen tiles and cries, not stopping until the sun begins to rise.

  


-

  


Abby comes down the next morning after walking upstairs to check on Jillian, following a few hours of suspicious silence.

 

Her words are simple, but potentially the most terrifying thing Erin's ever heard in her entire life.

 

“She's gone.”

  


-

  


They almost turn the city upside down before they give in for the night.

 

They have all called every contact and favour they have cumulatively between them, and have still come up with nothing.

 

The Mayor’s office are on alert, as are all the emergency services at the behest of the Mayor himself.

 

Erin is absolutely beside herself, pacing back and forward as Abby and Patty collapse bonelessly on the couch.

 

“I shouldn't have said anything to her, I was just so worried and I wanted to fix it and….”

 

Patty cracks first, standing up, holding Erin firmly by the shoulders.

 

“You gotta stop blaming yourself Erin, this wasn't on you. You know Holtzy, when she gets in her head, there ain't nothing no one can do to fix it. Something tells me all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't find that girl if she doesn't want to be found.”

 

Erin slumps under Patty’s hold. She knows it's the truth, as much as she doesn't want to believe it. She wants to search every corner of the city until they find her. Until she finds her.

 

“Also, jesus _christ_ girl, you gotta stop pacing or I'm gonna put you down.”

  


-

  


For three days Erin sits and waits, but nothing happens.

 

The others come and go, each continuing to put the word out through various channels, but nothing comes of it.

 

At the end of the third day, Abby comes to speak to her.

 

She's sitting at Holtzmann's desk, absent mindedly fiddling with one of her screwdrivers, twirling it round and round, the point slowly wearing down into the wood beneath it.

 

She feels slightly better up here, surrounded by Holtz's things. The smell that is so distinctly _her_ lingering around the lab. Grease and oil and the fainter hint of Holtz’s perfume.

 

Erin always used to love that she wore perfume, such a stark contrast to the general masculinity of the rest of her. And lipstick. Erin doesn't think she's ever loved a shade of red more.

 

“She's done this before. You know that right? Well never for this long, but….” Abby says calmly.

 

“What?” Erin says quickly. “Why didn't you say something before?”

 

“We didn't want to get involved. We were hoping the two of you would figure it out yourselves.”

 

“What do you mean?” Erin asks slightly confused.

 

“The only other time this happened, Holtz fell in love with a girl she knew wouldn't ever return her feelings. So she left, tried to reset things, and came back.”

 

“I don't understand, how is this the same thing? Are you saying she's in love with someone again?” Erin asks, her stomach sinking.

 

“You really have to ask?” Abby says incredulously. “Jesus Er, look around. You've got a fucking doctorate, figure it out.”

 

Abby moves to leave, putting a hand on Erin’s shoulder before dropping it as she walks away.

 

Erin doesn't quite understand, the information swirling around in her head like a maelstrom, but something in her snaps and the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them.

 

“I love her. Holtz I mean, I’m in love with her.”

 

Abby turns, and her features are a picture of relief and impatience.

 

“Thank _god_ but Er, I'm really not the one you should be telling that too.”

  


-

  


Erin sits in the lab and tries to make sense of Abby's words. She hadn't been surprised at Erin's admission, not even slightly.

 

And she hadn't been annoyed or angry. Relieved, if anything. Why would she be relieved if she knew Erin loved Holtzmann?

 

_Oh._

 

No. It couldn't be.

 

She feels the bond around her wrists tighten slightly, as her hands drop to the papers and mess on Jillian's desk, looking for something that might confirm her suspicions….

 

The first thing she finds are blueprints for new weapons, specialised for the four of them.

 

Holtz’s and Abby’s and Patty’s are all simple. Well, extremely complex, but the drawings and annotations are simple. Calculations based on weight and height and load-bearing ability.

 

Then she finds hers.

 

It's excruciatingly complex, like she actually struggles to follow most of it. What she can tell is that Jillian has had to have spent hours and hours pouring over the designs for hers, taking into account so many different variables, most of them Erin hadn't even realised herself.

 

The exact curvature of Erin’s spine so the pack fits perfectly with as little negative impact as possible. The exact reach of her arms, to maximise range and minimise danger to herself.

 

In short, it's beautiful.

 

And something someone would be incapable of doing unless they watched every single thing Erin did. Took into account every comment she had ever made about the weight or feel of the weapons. What she liked the best and hated the most.

 

She looks around and finds more. More designs and notes, detailing precise specifications for her, and her alone.

 

God, Erin thinks to herself, tears brimming in her eyes. How could I have been so stupid.

  


-

  


She finally comes back five days later.

 

One hundred and twenty hours. Seven thousand minutes. Four hundred and thirty two seconds later.

 

Erin's upstairs, sitting at Jillian's desk again, playing with one of the little robots the blonde had made for her, while she tries to proof-read a new article with varying degrees of success.

 

She's so distracted she doesn't even hear anyone come up the stairs until they knock on the doorframe, trying to get her attention.

 

“I just came to say good-bye,” Jillian says quietly.

 

Jesus, if Erin thought she looked bad before, it's nothing on what she looks like now.

 

She looks like she hasn't slept a wink in the last five nights, her clothes hanging off her already slim frame.

 

“Holtz?” Erin says in confusion, finally snapping out of her daze. “You're back?”

 

“Not for long. I just wanted to come and tell you all in person that I'm leaving.”

 

“Leaving?” Erin says frowning. “What. Why?”

 

“Look, I'm sorry Erin, I know I owe you more of an explanation, but I just can't ok. I'm really sorry. Have a nice life, alright?”

 

With that she turns to leave, her fingers sweeping over the doorframe as she walks down the first few stairs.

 

“Wait,” Erin says quickly, and she's out of her chair in a flash. “Jillian, wait.”

 

Erin thinks it's the first name that does it, stopping Holtz in her tracks. She doesn't turn to look at Erin, but she does stops moving.

 

“I know why you left,” she says quietly.

 

Jillian's frame crumples slightly under her words, and Erin thinks she hears a sob.

 

“I'm sorry, I'll be gone in a few minutes and you can forget all about it. It's so unprofessional and you probably think it's wrong and disgusting, and you have every right to hate me, and I'm sorry.”

 

She starts moving again and Erin feels the bond between them stretch to breaking point. She knows she has to do something drastic because if she lets Holtzmann leave, Erin knows she'll never see her again.

 

“Jillian, I love you too.”

  


-

  


Holtzmann's hands are soft and rough at the same time.  

 

They feel like they're everywhere, but not touching her enough simultaneously.

 

Her mouth is everything Erin ever hoped it would be. Her kisses are desperate and perfect, her tongue moving smoothly over Erin's before it leaves to run smooth lines up her neck before she pulls away suddenly.

 

“Are you sure? You're not just trying to make me stay? Because I can take it, but I need the truth Erin.”

 

Erin doesn't speak, doesn't trust the strength of her voice, so settles instead for pulling Jillian’s face towards hers, crashing their lips together.

 

She feels Holtz relax under her touch before she pushes back into the kiss, pressing Erin more firmly into the wall beside the stairway.

 

Erin's own hands are slightly frantic, like they can't decide where they want to settle. They grasp at Holtz’s shoulders, pulling at her hips, running through her hair.

 

They break for a second to catch their breath, and Erin can almost visualise the particles of matter swirling around them, slowing to an almost dead calm around their joint bodies.

 

She thinks she can hear the universe sigh in relief at their union, her atoms finally finding their partner in Jillian’s, settling into a stunningly beautiful equilibrium.

 

“Can you feel that?” Erin asks simply, all of her academic prowess failing to provide an adequate way of describing how her body is _singing_ in finally having met it’s true equal.

 

“I thought I was the only one,” Jillian says, a sob escaping from between her lips.

 

“So did I,” Erin replies, tears brimming in her own eyes in response.

 

“I think I've loved you since the moment I was born, I just hadn't found you yet,” Jillian says, running her fingers along the line of Erin's jaw. “I feel like I don't ever want to leave your side again.”

 

“So don't,” Erin says, laughing between her tears.

  


-

  


Her body bends and bows beneath Jillian's like it's never done for a lover before. They fit so perfectly together, Erin thinks it's a dream.

 

They move and arch in sync, never breaking contact with each other.

 

She has a single moment of hesitance after they make it back to her apartment when Jillian slips her shirt off her shoulders, suddenly uncertain about what to do next.

 

“Don’t worry,” Jillian says, reading her pause. “I’ll show you.”

 

And so she does.

 

Jillian slides easily into Erin, and she sees stars. Brilliant and white beneath her lids. Her fingers are gentle and unrelenting at the same time, pushing and pushing until Erin is falling hopelessly over the edge.

 

She comes with her teeth in Jillian’s shoulder and her name tumbling over and over from her lips.

  


-

  


She’s slow and unsure at first, but Jillian’s there, patiently whispering in her ear.

 

“A little lower….yes, _there_ ….”

 

And

 

“Harder, god Erin _harder_. I want to still feel you in the morning.”

  


-

  


She has always thought the most beautiful sight in the world is seeing Holtz smile. But god she’s wrong, she’s so wrong.

 

Erin watches as Jillian falls apart beneath her hands, her fingers deep inside her, biting her lip as her eyes flutter closed, and decides with an absolute certainty that heaven has nothing on this.

  


-

  


“Where did you go?’ Erin asks hours and hours later, when the dawn has come and gone and they’re still wrapped up in her sheets.

 

“It doesn’t matter. It only matters that you weren’t there, and that I came back.”

 

“For ever? You’re back forever?”

 

“Knowing what we do now, do you think I could ever be anywhere else?”

 

-

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Comments absolutely make my day and I appreciate the hell out of them, so if you feel like dropping a note, I'd love it :)


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